there was only me and my disgrace

[dirth]

WHO: Solas and Thranduil
WHAT: Something a little like this
WHEN: After Morrigan's report has been handed to Thranduil
WHERE: Solas' rooms
NOTES: Some Trespasser spoilers, if anyone is worried about them!

It's rare that anyone comes to Solas' rooms - there are a few people, enough to count on one hand and little more, who might know to seek him out here if he was not in the library, but it is few and far between. Most people, if they seek his council or his wisdom, are content to wait for him to emerge from his sleep with whatever new memories and fond visions he has captured from the Fade, with whatever it is that he's learned that evening.

The knock shakes him from his ready and he frowns, considering for a moment. The very fact that someone has come here without contacting him first - as would be the case for Galadriel or Gwen, for example - makes him think that it might be some kind of emergency, even if he's not entirely sure he wants to deal with those sorts of issues right now. Given the state of Kirkwall... It's hard not to get yourself entangled in it all.

In the end, good intentions - or, rather, bad ones, depending upon the person - win out and Solas moves forward, putting his book down on his desk. It's an easy walk to the door and his surprise is evident once he sees who is waiting there for him, his head tilting and his eyebrow raising just a little. He's surprised but not altogether unhappy to see his friend on his threshold.

"Thranduil. I did not expect you." Slowly, stepping back, Solas motions him to enter the room.

Comments

[laurenande]

"How fortunate," Galadriel says softly and closes the distance between them to press a kiss against his mouth. It is not hurried, nor firm and simmering with passion, but a delighted thing, glad for the news her heart has received. Once she has granted it, she sets her forehead against his.

"You need not worry that I have judged you, Solas," she says. "I have no fondness for gods, nor for those who would claim that mantle...and I have done such...terrible things to prevent the decline of the Eldar from grace.

"Desperation is an enemy we have both known well, but we shall not meet it again afield, not alone."

[dirth]

Solas leans into the kiss, as gentle and soft as it is. It's nothing made of passion or overwhelming desire, but a promise for something more in the future, an acceptance, an understanding of one another. It fills the empty part of him with warmth and tenderness, his body tilting up as he leans against her, the smile never fading from the gentle turn of his mouth.

He could grow accustomed to this, and it frightens him as much as it soothes him. Wolves are pack animals at heart and Solas has been alone for a terribly long time - but his People, even a fleeting image of them, may return. For as long as the Anchor shards are present, for as long as people are here, for as long as he can reach and try to believe...

You change...

Solas kisses her again.

"I am glad to have you at my side, Galadriel."